


Target Practice

by Zerrat



Category: Tomb Raider (Video Game)
Genre: Behind the Scenes, F/F, Mid-Canon, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 18:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zerrat/pseuds/Zerrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lara receives a new bow from Jonah, Sam gets dragged along for some target practice on the beach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Target Practice

When Whitman loudly arrived on Shipwreck Beach, claiming to have escaped the Solarii before then running for miles, Sam had felt the tension between the remaining expedition members of the _Endurance_ reach critical levels. Lara wasn't having any of Whitman's story, Reyes was half a breath away from solving the group's problems with her own fists, and while Jonah had a good point about fighting and staying unified, it really solved none of the problems threatening to tear them all apart.

Sam understood Lara's reasons in doubting Whitman's story. It was hard to blame Lara for pointing out the obvious flaws, but the truth was... The whole situation with Yamatai and the Solarii hardly felt real, and Alex had made a good point when he'd wondered aloud whether there really were cameras in the trees. But maybe Whitman's story _was_ true. Maybe it wasn't. There wasn't enough evidence to make a judgement either way, and even if Whitman was lying, what did Lara expect them to do? Send him off into the jungle?

Sam had watched Lara stalk off to find Alex, and she felt helpless, cold despair well up inside her stomach. 

On an island inhabited by insane cultists and filled with the tortured dead, Lara's anger and hurt should not have ranked so highly on Sam's list of concerns. It did though, even if Sam wasn't really sure what she could do to make Lara feel a little better.

Sam felt useless as she watched Jonah jog to catch up to Lara on the debris-strewn beach. She couldn't help her best friend – or any of them, it seemed. Every time Sam asked Reyes if there was some way in which she could help out, Reyes just told Sam not to touch anything, that they couldn't risk more parts breaking under Sam's inexperienced hands. While Jonah had meant well by telling Sam to go and sit down at the camp, it was far from the best way to make her feel useful. 

Sam supposed that tiptoeing around her feelings wasn't really the point.

In the end, Sam had simply sat down under the cover near the campfire, drawing out a damp, old book that she'd salvaged from one of the shacks lining the beach - _Robinson Crusoe_. The discovery of that title, hidden amongst the wreckage, was an irony not lost on Sam. A part of her liked to think that maybe it was a sign that Lara was wrong about the nature of the storms, and that maybe they could leave the island as soon as Reyes was done with the boat.

Still. The fact that Whitman had chosen to sit so _close_ to Sam did not make her comfortable - nor did she appreciate the way he kept glancing over at her. She ignored him in favour of her book, determinedly turning the pages and letting herself get drawn into the fictional world. At the edge of her hearing, she heard Whitman clear his throat, as if he wanted to say something, but that was when Sam heard the crunch of boots on sand and looked up to see Lara approaching again, her bow in hand.

Sam frowned a little – not that she wasn't glad to see her friend return, but she'd thought Lara had left to find Alex.

As Lara approached, Sam couldn't help but notice the wary look that she shot at Whitman. Whatever it was that Whitman had wanted to talk about died away immediately, and he looked back down to the journal in his hands. 

No, Sam decided, Lara didn't trust Whitman at all. Even if she'd backed down at Jonah's request, that distrust was obvious. Frustrated as she'd been when the rest of the crew of the _Endurance_ had not taken her seriously, Lara had still come back. 

Sam wondered if that was just another way Lara was attempting to look out for her. In spite of everything else on the island, and everything that had to be weighing on Lara's mind, she still put Sam's peace of mind as priority. 

That was just like Lara, and it felt stunningly normal when the rest of the world had gone crazy.

Lara looked battered and weary as Sam looked up at her, and in the cold light of day the damage still seemed far worse than Sam had first realised. At the Solarii fortress, the air had been scorching and choked with smoke, and in all the running and violence of Sam's rescue, detail had been reduced to a blur. The injuries still hadn't registered in the dark and fire of the summit forest, before Sam and the rest of the remaining crew of the _Endurance_ had left for the beach. 

It was only when Lara had returned to them just an hour prior that it had really hit home for Sam. How had she gotten so many? The bandage around Lara's bicep, the dried blood from a hole in her clothes just off her hip bone -

With sudden vividness, Sam was snared by the intense memory of the fire ritual in the bowels of the old palace - the memory of Lara putting an arrow through the chest of the acolyte with the torch for the pyre. From where she was sitting , Sam could see the darkening bruises on Lara's face and arms and remembered the Russian Solarii enforcers falling on her with a viciousness that had been frightening - 

Sam looked back down to her book, suddenly unable to breathe. All those cuts and burns were reminders of what Mathias had done, what Sam had been forced to endure while under guard in that palace. More, it was a reminder that her best friend had been through hell to save her, and Sam hated the fact that it _scared_ her.

"I don't really feel like talking right now…" Sam told Lara softly, and a part of her hoped that it would be the end of it, that she could simply lose herself in the book again. If Sam was honest, she just wanted to hide here on the beach until it was time to leave…

Still standing before her, Sam watched Lara nod. The gesture was a little jerky and uncertain, and for a moment it seemed as though Lara would honour her wishes as she turned away from Sam. Lara muttered something under her breath, her grip tightening on the bow in her hands, before she looked back at Sam.

"I had an idea," Lara said, a small smile lifting the corner of her mouth. She held out the old bow that she'd been carrying, and it was only then that Sam noticed that she had another one slung over her shoulder. "I'm going to teach you how to use this."

"But Lara, isn't that yours? I can't take that from you." Sam swallowed, looking from the wooden bow and back to Lara's dark eyes quickly. It sounded like an excuse, and a part of Sam wondered if that was exactly what it was.

"No, it's…" Lara trailed off, shaking her head for a moment. She seemed quieter than Sam had ever known her to be, and her expression seemed strained. There was a grimness to her that seemed to overshadow everything else now. "It's all right. Jonah gave me a new one, and I don't really need to double up. Instead of letting this one go to waste…"

"You've already given me the gun. Why the bow, too?" Sam touched the outline of the gun in her bag. Lara had given the weapon to her at Roth's pyre in the summit forest, and Sam had simply tucked it into her side bag and tried to ignore the fact that she was carrying it at all. She hadn't had a chance to use the weapon. Admittedly, Sam was a little afraid to use it, even if the whole situation made it frighteningly clear that maybe she'd need to fire it, to take a life.

The very idea made Sam feel ill. 

She looked over to Lara, and wondered how her friend had felt that first time she'd been forced to kill. Had it been a matter of life or death? Had it been a struggle? Had it been easy to pull the trigger, or tough? Even if the cultists stranded on Yamatai were pure monsters, they were still human…

Sam was still hesitating, even as Lara held out the bow to her stubbornly. Sam remembered her feelings of uselessness, and what the crew of the _Endurance_ said. Truth was, they were at least partially right. Sam was a rich party girl, with no practical experience at anything at all. While Sam never used to let that be an excuse for backing out of anything, Sam felt… she felt like it could be a barrier now.

Lara seemed to sense that hesitation at the brink of decision, but then again, Lara always been able to do that. Even back before Yamatai, she'd always been looking out for Sam, no matter what the cost to herself. Formal dinners with the academics of the university, dinners with Sam's family, clubbing on the streets of Berlin… 

The stakes back then had never been so high. 

"You can still keep the gun," Lara said, her voice serious and still lacking that lilting humour that Sam remembered. "The bow… it's quieter than the gun, you see. If I teach you how to use this, at least you can get in some decent target practice, without drawing every cultist madman to our location."

Lara shot another fleeting, sideways look towards where Whitman was standing, and it was that look more than anything else that made the decision for Sam. 

Sam tossed her book back down onto the tough coastal turf she'd been sitting on. She accepted both the bow and Lara's offered hand without so much as a grumble, and let Lara pull her to her feet. Taking the moment to crack her back and groan wordlessly at the multitude of aches and pains that had made themselves known all through her body, Sam followed Lara as they made their the way down onto the beach shore.

Lara led them some distance down the beach from the main camp, setting them up far enough away that there would be no mishaps with the arrows, but close enough for them to return to the others quickly if Mathias and his Solarii discovered their location.

"Wait here," Lara told Sam when they reached whatever random location she'd picked out, and Sam was left standing in the soggy sand as Lara gathered up bits and pieces from the shoreline. Plastic bottles, Sam realised after watching Lara collect the trash for a few moments – but why?

Sam tilted her head as Lara jogged out towards a lone boulder that had been left exposed by the retreating tide along the beach. With a painstaking carefulness that painfully reminded Sam of all those nights Lara had spent studying old and dusty tomes under her desk lamp light – while Sam had complained at the late hour her friend had been up at, and went back to her movie editing – Lara arranged the bottles in a long row and stepped back.

"Target practice," was all Lara said when she had jogged back to Sam's side, and Sam had nodded mutely, as if that explained everything.

"Right, of course it is," Sam murmured, biting her lower lip. She looked across at Lara plaintively, before down at the bow in her hands. She frankly had no idea of where she was supposed to be starting with the weapon, so Lara had better step up the tutoring – and fast.

"That bow – a recurve, for your information, not that I expect you to appreciate that fact – got me through a number of tight spots here. I'd be…" Lara hesitated, as if she was carefully picking and choosing her words, as if she was afraid she'd slip up. "I'd be honoured, if it can do the same for you. If it can help you protect yourself, when I can't be there."

Sam looked at Lara then – really _looked_ at her. Lara seemed so tired, so… damaged. Sam's bookish, quiet friend seemed to have been burned away by the island - while Sam had never doubted Lara's stubbornness and iron will, never before had it been so… _clear_.

And it had all been for Sam. The blood and grime, the cuts and bruises. Sam's eyes drew inexorably to the welt on Lara's cheek and the blood at the corner of her mouth, and for another dizzying moment Sam was back in the fire ritual, bound and frightened as Lara begged Sam to look at her. 

Sam shook her head, refusing to get further drawn into those awful memories and seeking a distraction - _any_ distraction. She looked back to the targets, and she slowly raised the bow.

Lara was a close and steady presence at Sam's side as she quietly instructed Sam on how and where to nock the arrow, how place her feet, how Sam needed to hold her body as she gripped the bow and drew the bowstring back to the corner of her mouth. Lara's voice was gentle in Sam's ear, and her adjustments to Sam's posture and grip on the bow were made with light but sure touches. Sam tried to listen and memorise every instruction, but she felt far too distracted by the trail of Lara's fingertips over her skin, by the blaze of warmth at her back.

Sam shook her head, determined to ignore the odd way her body was reacting, but it was too much. Her focus just wasn't _there_ , and when Sam loosed the arrow, she missed the row of plastic bottles by a frustrating amount. Sam growled, letting fly a few choice curses, and a few more that she'd picked up from Grim on the voyage to Yamatai. Lara laughed a little at Sam's admittedly intense overreaction, but wasn't exactly the laugh that Sam remembered. It was forced, it was wary, and above all it was so _tired_. When Sam looked back at Lara, she felt her heart ache a little at that realisation.

Lara was her best friend – and this island was killing her.

"You're not focusing, Sam. Please."

Lara was still behind her, and Sam numbly allowed her best friend to lean over her shoulder and readjust her grip. Sam's gaze followed the line of Lara's arm, listening to the sound of Lara's voice as she obediently relaxed her hold on the weapon as instructed. Sam closed her eyes for a moment, but it seemed like the image of Lara's arms - all those bruises, the tiny burn marks, the grime and deep scratches - was etched behind Sam's eyelids.

Mathias' fixation on Sam was not her fault, and she objectively understood all of that, but it didn't _change_ the fact that Lara had gotten so hurt for Sam's sake. She couldn't stop thinking that things would have been easier if she'd just stayed at home the way her parents had wanted - but it was with Lara, Sam remembered reassuring them the night before the _Endurance_ set out, and they'd been backpacking loads of times.

There was no changing the past, but Sam just wanted Lara to be _okay._ She just wanted Lara to-

"Sam, are you in there? Earth to Sam."

Sam shook her head a little as she smiled over her shoulder at Lara, and tried to ignore the odd way her stomach was clenching as she met Lara's gaze quickly. Did the old Lara even exist anymore?

"I'm fine, just…" Sam reached for an excuse, for the light banter that used to come so naturally to her, but she came up empty-handed and swallowed. "Let's just do this."

Lara sighed, giving Sam an odd, sidelong look. "If you say so."

Sam resettled her grip on the bow, but Lara began to shake her head. Trying to remember how to breathe, Sam let Lara lean forward over her shoulder, steady and close. 

"You need to hold the bow correctly, or all of this target practice won't do any good - like this." Lara gestured to Sam's rearranged hold. "Your wrist and arms should be aligned, and you need to hold it this way each time."

Sam nodded - that seemed fair enough. Keeping careful hold on the bow's grip, Sam nocked an arrow the way Lara had shown her to before, and then looked to her best friend questioningly. 

"Draw the bow like..." Lara drew the word out, and Sam looked back to the series of dented plastic bottles lined up on the distant boulder. "Well, a combination of pushing the bow out with the hand holding it, and pulling back on the string with the other." 

"Focus on the target, and _maintain_ that focus. Don't let up until after the arrow has struck. That's the most important thing. The key to using any weapon is focus." That last bit seemed like Lara was repeating something she'd been told herself, even if her voice had become a little tight with emotion. 

Sam exhaled, and in the space between one breath and the next, she drew the bowstring back. She focused on the line of bottles and loosed her arrow - and even if she still missed her targets by a wide margin, it was improvement. From the look Sam stole over her shoulder, Lara looked pleased with the progress too - and if Lara was happy, Sam was too. 

Taking another breath, Sam looked back to the line of plastic bottles and nocked another arrow. She allowed Lara to talk her through the shot again, quietly enjoying the sound of Lara's voice and letting herself get lost in the repetitive motions of the training. 

_Focus, draw, breathe._

After what felt like a blurred eternity to her sore arms and might as well have been hundreds of arrows, it happened. Sam finally either lucked out or the wind was with her or something, because her next arrow hit one of the bottles, knocking it clean off the exposed reef. Sam couldn't help but let out a whoop of triumph, and spun around on her heel to highfive Lara.

Lara accepted it with a warm smile, and as Sam tugged her best friend in for a tight hug, she felt like the old Lara _was_ in there. Even if Lara had been honed by the island and the struggle to survive, she was still _Lara_ , and the same person that she had always been. 

A lump formed in Sam's throat, and suddenly she was far too aware of Lara's warm body against her own. If she looked up, Sam could see Lara's lips and she wondered - what would it be like, to kiss Lara? Sam swallowed unsteadily, because suddenly all she could see was those lips - chapped by cold and wind, but curving into a weary and genuine smile that made some odd part of Sam's stomach flutter.

Sam wondered why the thought of kissing Lara had even crossed her mind, because she'd never thought on it before. Was it just the weirdness of the island coming into play again? Gratitude, for all that Lara had done? Fear that maybe this really _was_ the end and that they were all going to die? Was it something deeper?

Whatever it was, it didn't change the fact that Sam wanted to raise her hands from where she'd linked them behind Lara's back and push back the hair from Lara's face. She wanted to bend and press her lips against the long scratches down her collarbone and lift up on her toes to kiss the cut running back from Lara's forehead and back into her scalp. She wanted to kiss the raised welt on her cheek, carefully run her hands down the deep cuts on Lara's arms, before kissing Lara. Those lips would still be the _same_ , even if the rest of Lara had been forced to harden in order to survive -

Just a few heartbeats had passed as Sam had struggled, and in the end she didn't kiss Lara and carefully stepped away. Sam was too uncertain of what it all _meant_ to her, because the 'why' was just as important as the desire, at least when it came to Lara. Her best friend. 

Sam still desperately _wanted_ to, though. She wanted to take Lara into her arms and somehow make it better, even if Sam had no real way of doing so at all.

Lara was always there for Sam, and protected her no matter the situation or the cost. Sam wanted to be there for Lara, too. If there was any role Sam wanted on this insane island, that was it. 

The first step was proving that she didn't need to be a burden to Lara, that she could take care of herself - at least a little. 

"I'll..." Sam hesitated, looking back towards the row of bottles and then down to the bow in her hands. "You should go find Alex. He's been gone a while, and I can keep practising here." 

Out of the corner of her eye, Sam saw Lara shake her head.

"You're right." Lara sighed then, and looked over to the camp and down the coast. What was on her mind? Whitman, Alex, Mathias - or all of it?

"I can look after myself," Sam told Lara, even if Lara hadn't even suggested anything of the sort. "By the time you get back with Alex, I'm going to be an even better shot than you!"

 _That_ was highly unlikely, but it was a step in the right direction and Sam rather liked the way the off-kilter joke made Lara smile. Sam returned the smile, feeling as though some of the tension between her shoulders had bled away. 

She could - and _would_ \- look after herself, while Lara took care of what she needed. 

Sam watched Lara set off down the coast for where the _Endurance_ was wrecked, gripping Lara's old recurve bow in a tight clasp. Those moments when she'd almost kissed Lara though... Sam was fairly certain that it was not a spur of the moment impulse, even if she wasn't sure what else it really meant. 

Either way, Sam resolved to figure it out while Lara was gone. Turning back to the line of bottles, she nocked another arrow and continued her practice.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like updates as to current projects or just want to chat, feel free to come visit me on my tumblr: [zerrat](http://zerrat.tumblr.com/) (personal) and [zerratwritesstuff](http://zerratwritesstuff.tumblr.com) (writing)!


End file.
